


could you please come stitch me up?

by asexualrey



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:18:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6516310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualrey/pseuds/asexualrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time does not fix everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	could you please come stitch me up?

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those things that I shouldn't have spent time writing, but I did and it's done so I'm posting it. 
> 
> Title from "From The Mouth Of An Injured Head" by Radical Face.

Tanuma’s back aches. He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting in this hard plastic chair, bent over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands and his gaze trained on the marbled white floor. Nishimura, Kitamoto, and Sasada have come and gone multiple times. Taki comes as often as she can. Tanuma leaves only when absolutely necessary.

It’s probably not healthy. The Fujiwaras have told him multiple times to go home and rest properly, eat properly, but he can’t do that even when he does leave. He hasn’t been able to eat more than a few bites at a time for the past couple of weeks. Sometimes his father comes to bring clothes and food, and Tanuma’s grateful, but he can’t bring himself to care about such trivial things. Everyone’s worried for obvious reasons, but they also seem to be increasingly concerned for his wellbeing. He can see it in the ever-deepening creases in his father’s face, in Taki’s eyes when she asks him how he’s holding up, in the way Touko sometimes lays a hand on his shoulder and doesn’t say a word. He’s lost weight. He can’t sleep.

It’s definitely not healthy. But despite what anyone says, his health seems pretty irrelevant these days. He hates to worry everyone, but not enough to put up the exhausting pretense of being hungry or spending time twiddling his thumbs at home instead of where he’s currently sitting.

He doesn’t mention the fact that he’s getting headaches often. That most likely means Natsume has company checking up on him, and with both Touko and Ponta stationed in the room Tanuma doesn’t have much reason to worry about any ill-willed spirits. No need to worry anyone beyond what’s inevitable.

The door opens and a pair of small feet make their way over to him. He lifts his head at Touko’s soft touch and is greeted by her weary, smiling face. 

“Takashi’s awake,” she says. “He’s asking for you.”

Tanuma swallows and nods. Of course, he’s at Natsume’s beck and call. Whatever he wants.

When Tanuma enters the room, he still looks pale and drawn and slightly out of it due to the drugs pumping into him constantly. He’d like to think that some color has returned to Natsume’s face in the past few weeks, but he really can’t make that much of distinction.

Tanuma’s heart falls, but he puts on his brightest smile. “Hey.”

Natsume returns the smile wearily and closes his eyes when Tanuma bends down to kiss his forehead. “Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired. But I’m okay.”

The usual answer. Tanuma frowns.

“Really,” Natsume says. “I’m not in any pain. I promise.”

“Good.” Tanuma pulls up the chair that Touko vacated and drops into it heavily.

“How are you?”

“I’m just fine.”

Now Natsume frowns. “You don’t look like it. You look exhausted.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He covers Natsume’s cool hand where it’s lying on the sheets with his own and drags his thumb over his knuckles. “I promise I’m okay.”

“You’re not _not_ sleeping because of me, are you?”

And of course, _of course_ Natsume would be thinking about that. He’s probably been lying in this bed for the past few weeks thinking of all the people and spirits he could’ve been helping instead, beating himself into guilt even though this is a time he really needs to be thinking about himself.

Tanuma shakes his head, a pang hitting his chest for telling a blatant lie. “I just told you not to worry about me.”

“You know that’s never stopped me.”

Tanuma just breathes out a sigh. He wants to be able to take better care of himself, for Natsume’s sake, but he just does not have the capacity to eat or sleep or function properly right now. Maybe he will gain it back one day, but that day is far off.

“Do you know when you’ll be able to go home yet?” he asks in a near-whisper.

“Maybe in a few more weeks,” Natsume answers in a voice just as soft. “I’m starting therapy soon.”

It feels like something is squeezing Tanuma’s chest on the inside. “L-let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Natsume smiles, and the fabric of his hospital gown rises and falls gently with his chest as he breathes. “Just your being here is enough.”

Tanuma nods dejectedly. He’s so damn _useless_. “Yeah, but if there’s anything else—”

“I’ll let you know.”

And then, to Tanuma’s horror, he feels a tear slip from the corner of his eye and cascade down the plane of his cheek.

“Hey, hey.” Natsume’s hand comes up to cradle the side of his face and he looks so tremendously concerned and Tanuma doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. “What’s the matter?”

“I—” He feels so ill. None of this should have ever happened. “I couldn’t stop it.”

“Kaname…” Natsume shifts, like he’s trying to sit up to get closer, but he grunts softly and falls back against the stack of pillows propping him up. “There was nothing you could have done. You know that, right?”

Logically, yes, of course he knows that. But he can’t stop seeing it, can’t stop feeling frozen and powerless. He wipes at the moisture that keeps leaking from his eyes.

“I—yes, I know. I’m sorry. You don’t need this from me right now.” He’s being selfish, acting like this. Natsume is the one who needs comforting.

The blond boy stares at him with deep sadness welling in his penny-colored eyes, opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but then closes it again. Neither one of them are very good with words. And they’re both terrible in these kinds of situations.

“I’m here for you,” Tanuma says after a long pause. He feels the farthest he’s ever been from strong right now, but strong is what Natsume needs him to be. So he’ll do his best. “Whatever you need, I’m right here. I’m going to take care of you.” _I’ll protect you better from now on._

These words only seem to make Natsume sadder. His head falls forward until his bangs hide his eyes and he whispers, “Thank you.”

Tanuma’s brow creases further. “What’s wrong?” A stupid question, but he can’t help but ask it.

“I just…” His voice shakes a little. “What am I supposed to do now, Kaname? I can’t—I spend so much time running from spirits and now I—” He brings his hands up to press at his eyes. “I’m going to put everyone in danger. They’ll keep coming for me and I can’t get _away_ from them anymore. They’ll come to my house…they’ll come _in_ my house… Wh-what am I supposed to do?”

Tanuma’s been waiting for this, truthfully. Ever since they found out, he’s been sitting around thinking about it. About how Natsume would feel powerless and vulnerable and everything he hates being. He still hasn’t come up with the right words to make him feel better. “I guess…Ponta’s really going to have his work cut out for him, yeah?” He laughs a bit, but it’s devoid of humor. There’s no way to make this better. “Couldn’t you, you know, get other spirits to help? To guard your house and keep the bad ones away?”

“Not without the—” Natsume cuts himself off, suddenly, and starts over. “No. I could try, but the ones I could ask would be just as bad at it as Nyanko-sensei. Spirits aren’t really…protective.”

Tanuma wants to say that Ponta seems plenty protective, but Natsume knows better than him.

His eyes fall to the bedclothes, and he sees Natsume’s hands trembling in his lap. He must be scared out of his mind. Tanuma reaches out to run a hand soothingly up and down his arm. “It’s going to be okay, Takashi. We’ll—we’ll see if Taki knows anything that can help. We’ll call Natori. There’s got to be things we can do. We’re not going to let anything happen to you or the Fujiwaras.”

Natsume only nods, and Tanuma knows his mind isn’t ever going to be at ease again. He begins to shake even harder, so Tanuma climbs into the bed beside him and wraps his arms around him when Natsume buries his face in his chest and starts to cry. “I can’t—” He hiccups. “How am I supposed to protect you when I can’t _walk_?”

There’s nothing Tanuma can do. His heart is breaking into a million pieces and Natsume is hurting and there’s nothing he can do. He doesn’t have spiritual power strong enough to make a difference, to protect him. He couldn’t stop the spirit from tackling Natsume right off a cliff, couldn’t stop his back from breaking, can’t give him back feeling in his legs.

He’s utterly and completely useless.

All he can do is hold Natsume and pepper the top of his head with kisses and try to bring him whatever comfort he can. He laments, not for the first time, that he was not gifted with the ability to see spirits too. Then maybe he could help make this situation a little bit better.

Eventually Natsume’s sobbing dies down and he pushes away from Tanuma, rubbing an arm across his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m so scared.”

And this is exactly why Natsume can’t know that Tanuma is _terrified_ , that he hasn’t been eating or sleeping. He has to be the strong one right now. “I know. But it’s going to be alright, Takashi. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

There’s not much he can do to prevent disaster, and they both know it. If there were, Natsume wouldn’t be in this hospital bed. But Tanuma will still do everything he possibly can to make sure his precious boyfriend is safe.

Natsume only nods compliantly at this, and that’s concerning in and of itself. A month ago, he would have adamantly denied any protection Tanuma offered. Maybe it can be attributed to the painkillers pumping through his veins, but it doesn’t make Tanuma feel better.

“I think,” Natsume says, rubbing at his eye. “I think I want to sleep now.”

Tanuma swallows. He doesn’t say anything about how he hasn’t even been awake that long. Natsume mostly sleeps these days. “Okay. Yes, of course.”

He untangles his arm from around Natsume and slides off the bed. It’s routine at this point to help him lie back against the pillows in a way that doesn’t hurt his spine and recline the bed to the right angle. He makes sure Natsume is comfortable and that he doesn’t want anything before kissing him again and slinking to the other side of the room to wait until he falls asleep, which usually doesn’t take long.

When his breathing becomes gentle and even, Tanuma pokes the wad of fur curled up in an armchair near the window. “Ponta. Wake up.”

“Eh?” The cat’s eyes blink open slowly and he lets loose a yawn too big for his little mouth. “What?”

“Natsume’s asleep. Keep watch.”

Ponta sighs. “Man, this is such a pain. No spirits are going to try anything here.”

“Maybe not, but you still need to be sharp.” Tanuma’s chest still feels tight. “Natsume needs to know he can count on you now more than ever. You shouldn’t ever leave him for anything.”

“I always do my job.” He haughtily sticks his nose in the air. “I don’t appreciate your insolence.”

Tanuma glares, anger stirring up in his belly. “If you always did your job, Natsume wouldn’t be here right now.”

“It’s his own fault.” But his eyes slide away and he hunches into himself a little more. “I’m sure he’s learned his lesson by now.”

Sometimes it’s really, really hard not to hit this self-proclaimed bodyguard. Tanuma grits his teeth and his hand fists on his pants.

“But I’ll keep watch, if it’ll make the both of you stop nagging me.”

Ever since Natsume was brought to the hospital, the lucky cat has been more grumpy than usual and he’s stuck closer to Natsume’s side. He’s been more aggressive and defensive of himself than ever, but Tanuma thinks it’s probably because he feels guilty for what happened. He hopes one day Ponta will get over his pride and actually be the protector Natsume definitely needs, but he’s not holding his breath. Since the accident, though, at least he’s been a little more serious about keeping Natsume safe.

“Good.” Tanuma stands. “I’ll bring you a meat bun later.”

Ponta’s eyes light up, but he doesn’t express approval beyond that. Probably, Tanuma thinks, in consideration of his sleeping ward.

“Come get me when he wakes up,” he says, and then slips out the door as quietly as he entered.

Out in the hall, he immediately feels like crying. He hates seeing Natsume like this—so weak and broken and terrified. He hates this hospital. Even after Natsume is discharged, things can’t go back to the way they were before. It’s not fair. After everything he’s put up with, Natsume doesn’t deserve this.

“Here.”

Touko has approached him. She’s holding out packaged food and he still feels queasy at the thought of eating, but he can’t deny it when she’s standing there with such a hopeful, caring smile.

He takes it and tries to smile back. “Thank you.”

“I want to watch you eat it. All of it.”

His smile falls. He’s been around Touko enough to know how far her motherliness will go, and that there’s very little chance he can argue his way out of this. He follows her to a row of chairs and sinks down into one. “I’m not sure that I can.”

Touko’s eyes are so soft and caring. “Well, at least try. For Takashi. He keeps asking to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

And Tanuma nods, because trying is the least he can do for Natsume.

Touko runs a hand across the expanse of his back. “It will be okay, Kaname-kun. I know it may not seem like it right now, but things will go back to normal eventually. Time heals everything.”

He wants to shake his head, tell her she’s wrong, because she doesn’t know about the hardships Natsume faces behind her back, the ones he’ll never be rid of no matter how much time passes.

He nods again instead. Because this is what they do; they pretend everything is okay for the people around them and for each other. They’re both good at hiding things, and it’s probably more damaging than helpful but Tanuma has no illusions about Natsume realizing that anytime soon.

He’s scared that things will never be okay again. Natsume is convinced they won’t be.

A bolt of pain zaps through his head at the same time a shadow flashes by the window, but it’s gone before he can react to it. Maybe Natsume is right.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have several ideas for where this could go, but I'm not sure if I should continue it or not. If enough people are interested, I'll consider it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
